In 2008, when the Giants beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl when no one thought they could do it, after being told to remove my boots from nervously tapping too much on the wooden apartment floors and then jumping up on the couch in celebration while continuously phoning my father to scream with excitement, we danced in our Queens neighborhood streets to the local pub that offered drinks on the house in the event of such a prodigious win. It was cold, raucous, drunk, fun revelry, and I was fully engaged.
Today I made a cheeseball at Noon for a bunch of Patriots fans, and after chit-chatting about work and hula hooping post-game, celebrated with raw, vegan nachos and pea soup in Silver Lake. I was in bed by 11.
California, what have you done to me?
…In any case, the giant shirt did its job. And afternoon SuperBowl just makes sense.
Today was good.
